Hollywood Sinners (17 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

C
hloe awoke early in her Malibu apartment to a beautiful Friday morning. She swam forty lengths in the pool and then fixed herself a breakfast of blueberries, oatmeal and a poached egg white. Since arriving in LA she’d felt well: sunshine, good food and no booze was definitely the way forward.

Brock Wilde had told her that literally everyone in LA had a personal trainer, so after throwing on some clothes she hailed a cab. The other day she’d spotted a fitness club downtown called Bench, which looked smart and the least intimidating—nothing to do with the fact that she thought she’d seen Robert Downey Jr disappearing through the doors.

At Bench she was greeted by a pretty blonde woman with astonishingly toned arms.

‘I’m Bonnie,’ she said, delivering a firm, rather painful handshake. Her teeth were slightly too big for her mouth.

After some quick tests they got down to it with some weights and cardio work. Chloe tried to keep fit but after half an hour she was knackered.

‘Sorry,’ she wheezed beneath the weights, ‘this is harder than I thought!’

‘Need to rest up?’ asked Bonnie with a knowing smile.

Chloe nodded. She sat up and downed a litre of water.

‘Are you an actress?’ enquired Bonnie, passing her a towel. Chloe remembered that she wasn’t yet well known over here. It was rather nice.

She nodded and took the towel gratefully.

Surprisingly Bonnie didn’t look that impressed. ‘Come on, then. All the more reason to get back to work.’

What? That was a break?

‘You don’t want to lose any more weight, you know,’ said Bonnie, tweaking the equipment as her client lay back down.

‘I know,’ said Chloe.

‘I’ve gotta say it—I see too many young girls go that way.’

‘It won’t happen to me.’ Chloe decided she liked Bonnie. Even if, she thought as she settled into a series of tough arm reps, she was a hard taskmaster.

‘I’ve got this party on Friday,’ she went on. ‘I want to be ready for it.’ Chloe had read
In
magazine religiously throughout her teens, had appeared in the UK edition once or twice, and was hoping to impress its editor. People said Harriet Foley could make or break a career.

Bonnie never pressed for detail. She couldn’t stand name dropping. ‘I’m sure you’ll be great,’ she said as Chloe finished up. ‘The guys there are gonna have their tongues hanging out.’

Chloe shook her head. ‘I’ve got a boyfriend, actually.’

Bonnie raised a cynical eyebrow.

‘What?’ Chloe laughed.

‘It doesn’t stop most people.’

‘Well, it stops us,’ said Chloe firmly. ‘We’re happy.’

‘I’m glad.’

As she padded to the changing rooms, Chloe felt a flurry of excitement. She’d missed Nate these past few days. She couldn’t wait to see him.

* * *

When she dialled his number less than an hour later, a sleepy voice answered.

Chloe held the phone under her ear, sliding a knife into a buttery avocado. Was he still in bed? It was past midday.

‘Nate?’

‘Whozat?’

Chloe frowned. ‘It’s me,’ she said patiently.

‘Oh, hey, babe.’ Yes, she’d definitely woken him up. She knew what he sounded like in the morning, all mussed up and sexy.

‘Are you busy today?’ she asked, twisting the halves of the avocado apart.

‘Are you?’ he countered.

Chloe took the phone in her hand. ‘Don’t be like that,’ she said gently. ‘I did have stuff on yesterday. I couldn’t get out of it.’

‘Right.’

‘I’m sure you found something to do instead.’

‘Sure did.’

Chloe dropped a bag of salad into a bowl. ‘D’you want to meet? I can come over.’

‘Er, yeah…’ There was a rustle on the other end. Chloe thought she heard a woman’s voice in the background.

‘Who’s there?’ she asked, straining to hear.

‘One of Chris’s birds,’ said Nate quickly. There was another shuffle then the sound of a door closing. ‘Come over in an hour?’

Chloe grinned. ‘I will. Can’t wait.’

‘Me neither, babe, me neither.’

An hour later, after Chloe had eaten and showered and changed into a cute Adam playsuit, she took a cab to Nate’s downtown apartment. The record company had put them up in a nice block with its own pool, but it wasn’t as smart as her own place. She chided herself for making the comparison.

‘Hey,’ he said nonchalantly when he opened the door. He stepped back to let her inside, not bothering to kiss her hello.

Chloe was shocked at his appearance. Whereas she had adopted a healthy LA glow, her golden skin clear and her eyes bright, Nate’s face had a grey pallor and the whites of his eyes were almost yellow, with an eggy sort of sheen. Maybe this was part of the image. But the fact remained he didn’t look well.

‘Are you poorly?’ she asked, stepping in. She pressed a palm to his forehead.

He flapped her away. ‘I’m fine,’ he said, swaggering into the living room. Chris was on the couch, his arm draped round a stoned blonde with blue-saucer eyes.

‘Hey, Chris,’ said Chloe. The girl didn’t register. Chris looked at her quickly then glanced away.

‘What were you up to last night?’ she asked Nate as she followed him into his bedroom. It was a total mess in there, strewn with half-full mugs of tea and plates littered with pizza crusts.

‘Not a lot,’ said Nate, closing the door.

Chloe nodded and sat down on his unmade sheets. The linen released a musty, not altogether unpleasant scent. ‘How’s the band?’ she asked.

‘Pretty good,’ he said, fiddling with the stereo. ‘The new stuff’s killer.’ His voice became animated as he told her how they’d just shot a video for the first single, something about a deserted warehouse and strung-up trawler nets.

She mustered enthusiasm. ‘That sounds great,’ she said, waiting for him to ask her about the shoot with Lana. He didn’t.

‘Love this tune,’ he muttered, settling on a track. He sat down next to her. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling overdressed and awkward.

‘Is everything OK?’ she asked quietly. ‘You don’t seem yourself.’

Nate snorted. ‘Probably because you haven’t seen me in a while.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Chloe was concerned. ‘We saw each other at the weekend.’

Nate shrugged. ‘It doesn’t bother me,’ he said, lying back and fiddling with the belt on his trousers. ‘Just that now you’re all Hollywood, it looks like your celebrity friends are getting more of you than I am.’

‘Is that how you feel?’ Chloe asked softly. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think—’

‘Like I said, whatever.’ Nate took her hand. ‘I’m sure you can make it up to me.’ With his other hand he unbuckled his jeans and a rock-hard cock sprang free. He guided her fingers.

‘Nate, shouldn’t we talk about this?’

‘There’s better things to do than talk.’ His voice was gravelly now as he pulled her head towards his crotch. ‘Things that mean more.’ Closing his eyes, he ran his hands through her luscious hair—she’d take to it, had never been able to resist.

Sure enough, moments later he felt her lapping at his dick like a kitten.

This is where she belongs
, he thought, propping himself up to watch the show. Chloe went at it tentatively at first, then with greater enthusiasm, clasping him between her palms, cupping and kissing his balls. He pushed himself further till he heard that beautiful mewl of resistance, felt her little soft tongue press down hard on his tip.

Withdrawing, he flipped her back on to the bed. He pounced on her, kissing and biting like a wild animal. With his teeth he freed her breasts, sucking at them hungrily, tucking his arm round her waist to bring her up closer.

‘I want you, Nate,’ she whispered. He buried his face in her neck, pulling on her earlobe. Man, she was beautiful.

He fumbled with the playsuit, trying to work out how to undo it. Eventually he gave up and hooked his fingers in, pulling the crotch of it to one side.

Chloe felt his cock pressing for entry. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’ she asked through the haze. She raised a knee against his chest and levered him off.

Nate looked confused. ‘I’m all out.’ He grinned. Realising how that sounded, he hastily added, ‘Chris nicked ’em all.’ He leaned in to resume kissing her.

‘Come on, Nate,’ said Chloe, firmly this time. ‘I don’t want to get pregnant.’

Nate hauled himself off, rolling his eyes. Grudgingly he wrapped a dirty-looking towel round his waist and disappeared from the room.

Chloe sat up. She tucked her knees up under her and waited for him to come back. Moments passed. What was taking so long? She lay back and stared at the ceiling, a great fan with huge blades whirring above her. Bored, she rolled over and slid open his bedside drawer. There was a photo of the two of them at some launch in London last year, their arms round each other, smiles wide. She grinned at the memory.

Lifting it, she ran her fingers round its edges. They were made for each other, she knew that much. Nate had just been tired earlier, there was nothing to worry about.

As she went to replace it, her eyes fell on something else. Beneath the picture was a box of condoms. ‘A-ha!’ she said happily, thumbing open the top and about to call out to Nate. But nothing prepared her for what it contained.

Chloe frowned. The box was stuffed with little squares of different-coloured foils, all of them ripped open at the top. Tens upon tens of condom wrappers with nothing inside. She emptied them out in the drawer, confused at first and then, as understanding came, totally numb. She felt her heart stop. Tears sprang to her eyes. The world shrank so it was tight around her. She pulled the sheet up to cover herself.

Faintly she heard Nate having a brief conversation with someone outside. She thought she heard the words, ‘Not this time, mate,’ before Nate opened the door and triumphantly held up the goods. She found she couldn’t say anything.

The sex was painful. Chloe was detached throughout, gazing blindly up at the ceiling, totally silent. Nate didn’t seem to notice as he rocked on top of her, mumbling things in her ear that she couldn’t hear. He tore at her body, attacking her, driving into her with unstoppable force.

Eventually he climaxed. Chloe lay still, eyes wide open. Nate rolled off her and muttered, ‘Fucking amazing, babe,’ then fell asleep almost instantly. She heard him start to snore.

Chloe lay awake for what felt like hours. She was unable to get up and leave, not knowing if her legs would carry her.

She turned into the pillow and cried silent tears.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

L
ana punched in Cole’s number one more time, was transferred to the usual answering-machine and hurled her cell at the wall. What the
fuck
was her husband playing at?

Struggling to regain her composure, Lana made her way down the main stairs and out on to the terrace, where she promptly dialled Rita. Her agent picked up immediately.

‘Rita, Cole’s got me locked up, I’m going crazy. You’ve got to do something.’ She had been trapped in the mansion all day, waiting for his return like one of his pet dogs. Cole’s security had been instructed not to release her from the grounds until he was back—apparently he wanted to talk to her.

Did he know about Parker?

The heavies were more like robots than people, there was no getting round them. She was shaking with the injustice.

‘Hang on a minute, honey, slow down.’ Rita said something to the person she was with before coming back on the line. ‘I’m all yours, Lana, explain to me what’s happening.’

‘My husband’s got me locked in the house.’ Her voice was thick with frustration. ‘They’re not letting me out. I’m helpless, Rita, I’m fucking helpless.’

‘Whoa, whoa,
who
’s not letting you out? Cole?’

‘His security. It’s on his instruction.’

‘Just calm down a second, OK? Take a deep breath. Tell me why.’

‘I don’t know.’ Lana took in the expansive grounds, at this moment the smallest place in the world. There was a stitched-up feeling in her chest like panic. ‘He wants to see me.’

‘OK,’ rationalised Rita, ‘so what if he just wants to catch you when he gets back; make sure you don’t miss each other—’

‘By
shutting me in
?’

‘You both lead busy lives, Lana,’ said Rita reasonably.

‘What’s going on here?’ Lana couldn’t stop herself from snapping. ‘Don’t you believe me?’ A wave of horror crashed over her when she realised Rita was the only person who knew the precise nature of the deal and who could do anything about it.

‘Of course I believe you,’ she said with feeling. ‘I’m just trying to put forward both sides here. If we raise this as breach of contract, we’re embarking on a serious accusation.’

Abruptly Lana heard the main door slam shut. Rita picked up on the distraction. ‘Are you all right? What is it?’

‘He’s home. I’ve got to go.’

‘Call me later,’ Rita urged. ‘If you don’t get in touch before six I’m coming to the house.’ When Lana didn’t respond she pressed, ‘OK?’

‘OK.’

Lana folded her cell shut and stormed into the hall. Cole was removing a pair of leather driving gloves with the precision of a surgeon. His expression was calm.

‘Hello.’ He removed his jacket and laid it on the side for his housekeeper to pick up. ‘You look upset.’

‘Oh, no,’ said Lana evenly, ‘I’m not upset. I’m
furious
. I want you to tell me what the
hell
you think you’re doing keeping me prisoner here. What am I, just another of your meaningless fucking possessions? I certainly cost as much, didn’t I? In fact,’ she laughed bitterly, ‘why give me the house, Cole? Why not lock me up in the garage along with your precious cars? And while you’re at it, why not go ahead and install
me
with a fucking security system?’

Cole just stared at her. Eventually he said, ‘Don’t swear, Lana, it doesn’t suit you.’

‘I’ll do whatever the
fuck
I like, Cole,’ she managed, hot rage simmering. ‘And there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.’

He frowned, confused, then walked past her to the bar where he sank wearily into a studded leather armchair. His footsteps echoed round the space and she saw he was wearing a pair of stacked, patent black heels. Offset by the trousers he wore, which were a fraction too short, the overall picture was bizarre.

He shook his head. ‘Frankly, I’m surprised.’

‘
You’re
surprised!’ she exclaimed in disbelief. ‘Imagine how I felt this morning when I tried to leave the house and one of your guys held me back?’ Her voice quietened. ‘He
restrained
me, Cole. Does a man like you have any idea how that feels?’

Cole’s face was blank. As ever he looked immaculate, pristine, cold. ‘They were only following my orders,’ he said smoothly. ‘They were doing their job.’

‘It’s not their job,’ Lana said shakily, scarcely able to contain herself, ‘it’s yours. But
you’re
not man enough to do it, are you? Oh, no, you couldn’t even—’

In an instant Cole was on his feet, his arm in the air.

Lana released a mirthless laugh. ‘Are you going to hit me? Go on, Cole, take your best shot. Go on—I’m good at this, you know, better than you think. I’ll—’

‘I’m not going to hit you,’ he said quietly, his arm falling to his side. ‘I would never hit you. I’m sorry, I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have done that.’

Momentarily silenced by his words, Lana attempted to slow her racing heart. When she spoke her voice was soaked with resentment. ‘You wouldn’t understand, Cole, but I’ve been through things much worse than anything you can put me through. I won’t let you scare me. And I sure as hell won’t let you keep me here against my will. You put me in a cage and it’s the worst punishment I can imagine.’

Cole met her gaze. ‘I had to.’

‘Why?’ Her pulse surged as she remembered her affair. But her husband couldn’t know—such an affront would surely warrant a more deadly penalty.

‘Where were you yesterday afternoon?’ he asked stonily.

She breathed an inward sigh of relief. That was easy. ‘I was with a colleague. We had a scene together and then I invited her back here.’

Cole eyed her. ‘I couldn’t get hold of you,’ he said after a moment. ‘What’s the good of my wife if I can’t get hold of her?’ He seemed genuinely puzzled.

Vaguely Lana recalled putting her cell on quiet for the scene—she must have forgotten to switch it back on. ‘My cell was off,’ she explained. Then she shrugged. ‘And, yeah, I guess the house phone might have rung a couple of times…’

She could see a muscle going in Cole’s jaw. One thing he could not abide was a ringing phone with no one to answer it—it was too much like chaos.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, he lost it.

‘What the
fuck
good is that?’ he fumed. ‘And how
dare
you bring some fucking stranger into our home?’

Lana was alarmed. ‘
Our
home?’ she retorted. ‘You’ve made it quite clear this house belongs to you alone. As for “home”—don’t make me laugh.’

‘You need to apply some thinking to this, Lana,’ he said coolly. ‘The last thing we need is some silly starlet poking her nose around our affairs and drawing conclusions—’

‘Ah, so that’s what this is all about.’ A beat. ‘The bottom line, Cole, is that you don’t want me to have any friends. You don’t want me to know anyone. And it’s not just about protecting our little
arrangement
—’ she said the word with disgust ‘—it’s about keeping me in my place. You’ve gotten rid of everyone, haven’t you? My friends, my foster-mom, everyone. You won’t have me thinking for myself, or making my own choices, and above all you
won’t
have me living my own life.’

‘I never stopped you being in touch with your foster-mother, don’t you pin that on me.’

Lana’s voice shook. ‘You make it so I don’t know who I am, Cole. Can’t you let me breathe?’

‘We have our reputation to think about!’ The shrill of it rang out around the walls. ‘Does that mean
nothing
to you?’

Lana shook her head. ‘There are more important things than reputation, Cole.’

‘Not when you’re me.’ He was trembling. ‘
Not
when you’re me. This is a delicate understanding.’ He jabbed a finger at her and then at himself. ‘I know it, I’ve done it before. You cannot afford to be cavorting around with whoever happens to want a piece of—’

‘Cavorting?!’ she spluttered. ‘I think I’ve forgotten what that feels like!’

Cole’s eyes flashed. ‘Why must you be so goddamn
secretive
?’

He watched her, waiting for an answer. This was one point on which Lana knew she couldn’t tell the truth. Here she was telling Cole not to treat her like a prisoner, when the fact was she fully deserved to be one.

Her thoughts flipped to Robbie.
Stay quiet. It’s his past as well as yours.

She folded her arms and looked away, convinced he could smell her guilt.

‘Pack your bags,’ he said calmly.

Lana’s head snapped up. He couldn’t be serious. ‘What?’

The passion that accompanied his wrath had evaporated—Cole was back to his usual, closed self and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. Had she heard right?

‘We’re going to Vegas,’ he said. ‘Tonight.’

‘Why?’ It came out like a laugh. There was no way she was going to Vegas. She’d come up with an excuse, something, anything.

‘We’ve tipped off the press. It’s a spontaneous romantic getaway.’

This time she couldn’t stop the laugh escaping. Was he kidding? No, it seemed not—she doubted the irony had even registered.

‘I want to meet these characters behind your premiere,’ Cole went on, heading for the stairs, ‘make sure they’re on top of everything. It’ll be an important evening for both of us.’

Lana was struck dumb. Eventually she managed to stammer out a response. ‘I—I’m not going.’ It sounded like her voice was coming from very far away.

Cole turned and gave her a look she hadn’t seen before—a mix of grudging admiration and complacent satisfaction, knowing he had the contract on his side. ‘Oh, yes, you are.’

She shook her head. He could have no idea of the real reason she simply could not step on that plane with him. ‘I’m not going,’ she said again.

‘Unfortunately that is not your choice,’ he said, totally composed. ‘If you’re in any doubt, please consult the paperwork.’

It was a losing battle. Lana was bound to accompany Cole on publicity trips, even at such short notice. But it wasn’t possible. Going to Vegas wasn’t possible.

‘The jet will be ready for us in an hour,’ he told her, once she’d had time to digest the full impact of her duty. ‘Pack your bags.’

Lana blinked once, twice. Things were turning in on themselves, thick like glue. It was the stick of inevitability.

‘Where are we staying?’ she asked, already knowing what he was going to say.

‘Where do you think?’ He paused before delivering the final blow. ‘The Orient.’